Poem-

Sometimes I ask myself,
“Why don’t I want to write?”

And a little voice inside me says,
“Because I don’t want to.”

And then I make myself write.

Why do I do that?

-M. Taggart

poem

I’m almost ready to write.
It’s a strange feeling knowing that I’m putting if off.
A purposeful thing found in the back of a thought,
lingering, like a vibrating sponge left on the beach
just out of reach of the waves.

Soon though, I will.
Maybe I’ll remember some of it.

-M. Taggart